


A Gambling Man

by OceanTheSoulRebel



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: First Kisses, Gambling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 02:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OceanTheSoulRebel/pseuds/OceanTheSoulRebel
Summary: Anders wasn't, as a general rule, a gambling man - but he knew a winning bet when he saw one.





	A Gambling Man

Anders wasn’t much a gambling man, and it showed. 

Before he’d come to Kirkwall, he'd blamed his losses on the drink. He would do so now, but Justice didn’t allow him to get drunk anymore, processing the poison almost as swiftly as he poured it down.

No use in spending coin he didn’t have, so he stuck with water and watched with muted jealousy as his friends would drink themselves silly during their weekly card night.

Anders, as a general rule, was not a gambling man. He took too many risks to chance Luck’s ill favor, and instead spent whatever goodwill he had earned from the mysterious force to remain as anonymous as he could in the shadows and sewers of Dark Town. Cards had never been his vice, for that matter.

He much preferred skill to chance.

“I’ll tell you what,” Hawke said, just this side of too tipsy to know better, “I know you’re strong. How about this: you beat me in an arm wrestling match, and I’ll pay off your debt to Fenris and Bela. Maker’s tits, you beat me and I’ll even throw in a sovereign for you!”

Anders scoffed. “You’re drunk,” he replied drolly. “I’d wipe the floor with you, rippling biceps and all.”

He tried not to think too hard about how much money that would be, how many bandages and loads of laundry that coin could stretch into. So many, actually, and maybe even some food for the flood of starving bodies that crashed into his clinic every day.

Anders shook his head. “Plus,” he started again, “Isabela’s in my clinic almost every week to clear my debts, and it’s gotten to the point where she should be paying me!”

“Hey, you say it’s a _free_ clinic!”

Merrill giggled with drunken delight. In the corner of his eye, Varric may have snuck out a journal and a pen to record whatever illustrious scene he had concocted from the interaction.

“Don’t worry, Hawke. I’ll pay Fenris the old fashioned way.” He rolled his eyes with a grimace while Isabela nearly laughed herself out of her chair “With  _coin,_  Isabela, get your mind out of the gutter.” 

Anders turned back to Hawke, considering him with an assessing gaze. “And you’re drunk. Or, at least, tipsy enough you shouldn’t be betting good coin.” 

“No, I’m not,” Hawke protested. “But think about it.” His eyes shone brightly in the light of Varric’s lanterns.

“That’s a losing bet, Garrett,” Anders warned, waving him off with a good-natured smile. “I don’t need to disgrace you with your loss, and on your own name-day, too.”

A knife-edge grin crested over Hawke’s face, and he licked his lips. “Oh, I’d like to see you try.”

A pool of concern dripped down into his belly, the tell-tale sign of Justice’s discomfort.  _Pride is a sin, Anders,_ the spirit reminded him, but he was too late.

Anders knew a winning bet when he saw one.

“Fine,” he said with exaggerated exasperation, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You all heard him, right?” Anders gestured to the assembled crowd of their companions, who watched with rapt, if amused, attention, their nods giving their assent.

“This should be good,” Isabela snickered.

Anders ignored her, settling in his chair. They sat opposite each other at the table, and he made a show of blatantly studying Hawke’s muscles, his hand, his face. Their hands met and clasped, grip tight and sure.

“Varric, if you would do the honors?” Anders asked, watching a cocksure smile take over Hawke’s easy grin.

“On the count of three - one, two, three!”

They struggled for a breath, each testing the other, their linked hands trembling and shifting ever so slightly. Anders leaned forward, setting his jaw, pursing his lips as if in concentration.

“Just so you know, I’ll know if you try to magic yourself strong or something,” Hawke teased, wiggling his fingers in Anders’ grip. “Don’t even bother cheating with that.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

Anders pushed against Hawke’s hand for another second before standing, leaning across the table and capturing Hawke’s mouth with his own.

Hawke gave a startled gasp at a nip to his lower lip, and a deep, stifled moan when Anders slid inside. Anders used his free hand to tip Hawke’s head back, allowing him further access, and pressed his advantage when Hawke’s attention faltered.

Hawke’s broad hand hit the tabletop with a dull  _thud,_  loud in the otherwise silence of the room.

Anders lingered in the warmth of the kiss for a breath before pulling away, meeting Hawke’s brilliant brown eyes with his own. “I win.”

“You sure fucking do,” Isabela laughed, slapping at the table. “Maker’s tits! Can I change the terms of our agreement, sweet thing? I think I’ve found a form of payment I like better!”

Hawke grinned, licking his lips as if to savor the contact. He threw up his hands and gave a short bow of his head. “I have been well and truly beat, bravo. I didn’t realize I was challenging such a tactician!”

Anders smiled, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “I told you I didn’t want to disgrace you.”

“Oh, I am many, many things, but ‘disgraced’ is not the word I would use in this moment,” Hawke answered, reaching for his coin purse with a laugh.

The room exploded into ribald cackling, and even Fenris joined in with a grin. Merrill glanced from face to face with an amused, tipsy smile.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, prompting another peal of laughter.

* * *

 

They had stayed well into the morning, the window letting in the darkest notes of the midnight sky. Anders nearly bounced with every step down the stairs, his skin still prickled at the sinful noise he had garnered from Hawke earlier, and had just stepped into the Lowtown night when he heard his name.

Hawke hurried to catch him, his coat pulled tight against his ribs. “You, uh, you… Wow.”

“Very elegant, Garrett.”

“No, I mean…  _wow._  Maker, Anders, you’re so…” Hawke frowned for a moment before chuckling. “Okay, I did  _not_  expect that when I made that bet. I didn’t really think you the betting type.”

Anders laughed, tucking an errant length of hair behind his ear. “What can I say? You appealed to my pride, and try as I might, I’m still a very proud man.”

They walked through the alleys toward Anders’ clinic, their steps leisurely and light. He would have hurried, had he gone alone, but Hawke made him looser, more confident in his walk.

“What’s Justice got to say about that?”

“Oh, you know, more of the same. Telling me I’m wasting time and energy, pride is a sin, that I… took advantage…”

He trailed off with a slight catch in his throat. His conscience had nagged at him all night, despite Hawke’s apparent disregard, his concern mingling with the spirit’s own. Anders turned to Hawke, hands twisting in the lapels of his coat.

“I’m sorry, Garrett. I shouldn’t have done that. It was… it was very wrong of me to take advantage.”

Hawke snorted. “Anders, I’ve been trying to convince you to kiss me for months. I’m just glad it finally happened. Maybe I should appeal to your sinful nature more often, see if that gets me anywhere.” He flashed a small smile. “I’d just, you know, like to be more a part of things next time. I mean, if there’s a next time.”

Anders raised his brow. “Next time?”

 _“Maker,_ I hope there’s a next time!”

His stomach twisted. “Garrett…”

Hawke stepped close, tilting his head back slightly to keep Anders’ gaze locked on his own. “Anders, I - I don’t want you to keep pushing me away,” he admitted softly. “If there’s a way to make this happen, I want to take it. Well, if you want to. If you want me.”

He bridged the gap between them to wrap his arms around Anders’ neck, sighing when he was not immediately rebuffed.

Anders’ hands unconsciously crept to Hawke’s waist and pulled them flush together against the night’s chill.  

“Please,” Hawke asked, trailing his thumb over the sharp line of Anders’ jaw, “may I kiss you?”

There was no hesitation, despite Justice’s clamored warning.

“Yes,” Anders breathed, groaning at the soft press of Hawke’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr as [ocean-in-my-rebel-soul](https://ocean-in-my-rebel-soul.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Comments and concrit always appreciated! Thank you for reading!


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